


you're hot then you're cold (you're yes then you're no)

by paenteom



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M, Performance Issues, Vitriolic Flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 02:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6547378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paenteom/pseuds/paenteom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Truth be told, if Newt had to pick the five worst parties he’d ever been to, this one wouldn’t even make the top three. Nothing could ever top the time he threw up on his crush in college. That said, it was unfortunate that Tendo’s house warming party involved a lot of actual fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're hot then you're cold (you're yes then you're no)

Truth be told, if Newt had to pick the five worst parties he’d ever been to, this one wouldn’t even make the top three. Nothing could ever top the time he threw up on his crush in college. That said, it was unfortunate that Tendo’s house warming party involved a lot of actual fire. Halfway through the first round of poker the citywide alarm sirens went off, and barely five minutes later the building was crumbling, kaiju dropping out of the sky like hail. They don’t even respect Sundays these days.

And yeah, maybe he shouldn’t have gone in unarmored. But there were way too many civilians milling around in the street and there was no trace of the military yet and what else was he gonna use his powers for if not protecting the innocent. And stuff.

Newt’s back hits the hard asphalt with a sickening crunch that knocks the wind out of him. He stares up at the pitch black night sky, stars almost completely obscured by smog, and tries valiantly to pump air into his struggling lungs. All in all that endeavour turns out minimally successful, but he gives himself a gold star for trying anyway.

His ears are ringing. He can hear crashing and screaming and the faint sound of sirens coming from somewhere to his left but it’s hushed and low, like someone wrapped his head in cotton while he wasn’t looking. It’s almost peaceful down here. Newt briefly considers napping.

Acid hits the street about three inches from his left elbow with a worrying sizzle. Newt lets out a sound he will later deny was a shriek and rolls to his right, ignoring the ache spreading through his chest as he pushes himself up on trembling hands.

The creature shambles down the street, tentacle tongue flicking towards him searchingly. Newt tries to even his breathing, and slowly gets to his feet. This is fine. This is totally peachy. He’s got this.

He snaps his fingers, waiting for his palm to fill with flames. Absolutely nothing happens. Okay, he thinks to himself, not ideal, but this situation is still totally salvageable. No reason to panic. The kaiju stretches spindly arms topped with razor sharp claws in his direction. Newt snaps his fingers again. And again, and again. His body remains frustratingly unresponsive.

“Great,” Newt says out loud. “I’m going to die.”

Something whizzes past his head and hits the kaiju directly in the face. It skitters backwards with an angry howl, landing flat on its back, limbs flailing wildly.

Newt whips around and comes face to face with Asshole McFrogface. Okay so, that’s not actually his name, probably. Tendo had told him what it was at some point this evening, but Newt missed the actual introduction bit because he was distracted by the fact that the first thing that came out of the guy’s mouth was an insult directed at his Star Wars shirt (and also maybe a little bit by the fact that his eyes were very large and very brown).

Frogface is breathing hard and leaning heavily on his cane, his fingers still trailing ice. There’s something like actual concern etched into his features.

“Are you okay?” he says, at the same time as Newt spits out, “Dude, I had this under control!”

Frogface’s eyebrows travel up into his hairline.

“Clearly,” he says, his tone drier than Newt’s throat.

“I’m not a damsel,” Newt says. His cheeks are feeling a little bit hot, but he blames it on the exertion.

“Really?” Frogface -- Hermann, that's his name -- says. “Because you looked in distress to me.”

“Listen, asshole,” Newt gets out before Hermann plants his cane into the middle of his chest and pushes, hard. Newt stumbles to the side and narrowly avoids the scythe that comes down millimetres from where he just stood. The kaiju shrieks angrily and turns around in its slow, lumbering manner for a second assault.

“As much as I’d love to argue with you about technicalities,” Hermann says, “maybe we should deal with this first.”

There’s ice travelling out from under his feet, blanketing the asphalt around him. His hands are trailing blue air and, okay, that’s kind of hot, if Newt is completely honest.

“Right,” he says. “But for the record, I can handle myself.”

This time, when he snaps his fingers, fire follows in their wake. Out of the corner of his eyes, he thinks he can see Hermann smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> "hey, can you write about newt and hermann being superheroes of some kind," they said.
> 
> "oh my god, they would be the worst. like, legitimately _the_ worst. big damn disasters. especially newt," i said.
> 
> "i have to make this happen," i said.
> 
> well there it is. sort of. maybe.


End file.
